I want to talk about something that’s been on my mind for a few months now. It’s something I’ve wanted to write about for a while, but I’ve kept putting it off. Every time I sat down to start, I’d find a reason not to.

I want to talk about loneliness as a parent, because I have a feeling I’m not the only one who feels it from time to time. For me, it comes and goes. But over the last six months, it’s been there more often than not. And I think the reason I’ve struggled to write about it is because, if I’m honest, I’ve struggled just feeling it.

Most days, life looks the same. During the week, the mornings are about getting the kids ready and out the door to school. Then it’s work, followed by school pick-up, after-school therapies or activities, dinner, and bed. The weekends look a little different without school, but they’re still filled with activities.

From the outside, it probably looks like a full life. Busy. Surrounded by people. The kind of life where loneliness doesn’t really make sense, even to me sometimes. There’s always something going on… but it can still feel lonely.

I work from home, which already blurs the line between “work life” and “home life.” There are no lunch breaks with colleagues or quick chats while making coffee. I have colleagues, and we talk in meetings, but outside of that, most of the time, it’s just me.

Then you add parenting. And parenting a child with Down syndrome, who needs extra therapies and attention, and it brings a whole new layer to it all. There’s no real switch-off. Even when I sit down to relax, my mind keeps going, thinking about unanswered emails, wondering if I’ve packed everything for the day’s activities, or trying to figure out what’s for dinner and how we’ll fit it all in.

I know I’m not the only one living like this, but sometimes it still feels like no one quite gets it.

I’ve spoken to other parents. We’re all busy, but busy in different ways. And somehow that can make it feel even more isolating. Not only do I feel alone in the busyness, but the busyness itself makes it so hard to actually connect. There are times we organise catch-ups, and even then, with Hope needing that extra attention, I don’t always get the chance to properly chat or relax. I’m often still “on,” just in a different setting.

What I keep coming back to is reminding myself that this is a season. The kids will grow. Their needs will change. Hope will always have Down syndrome, but we’re putting in the work now to help her build as much independence as she can as she gets older.

So maybe it won’t always feel like this.

For now, I’m learning to notice the small moments as they come and hold onto those.